


Better Late Than Never

by Lab Notes (auronlu)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: AU, F/F, in which Lasarti doesn't exist, pairing: indestructible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2082870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auronlu/pseuds/Lab%20Notes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tegan and Nyssa trying to figure out where they stand after "Cobwebs" brings them back together. (This is a little rough; I wrote it immediately after hearing that audio, and later wound up writing a different version that some of you have already seen.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Late Than Never

"You... don't want to travel with us?" said the Doctor.

"I am tempted," Nyssa said. "But no, Doctor. I am needed."

"Hmm." The Doctor bowed his head: he could hardly argue with her missionary zeal to cure every known pathogen in the galaxy, even though he suspected she would need more than a Time Lord's life span before she deigned to take a vacation. "Very well."

"Though knowing what the TARDIS is like, it could be months before he gets you home," Tegan chuckled.

"Very true." Nyssa cracked a smile, then. "Is my old bedroom still free?"

"I'll come with you. You might want to get settled in for a long stay." Tegan grinned.

They walked through the white corridors of the TARDIS, feet clicking on the floors with a familiar pattern that made Tegan dizzy. Two days ago, Nyssa had been pale and wan and determined, precipitously leaving the ship in order to develop a vaccine for a plague that had nearly killed her. Tegan had begged her not to stay, stranded and defenseless if the station's inhabitants should turn against her or the supplies should run out or any of the other grisly fates should transpire that Tegan's imagination had conjured up over the past few days.

The Doctor had believed in Nyssa. He always did. She was the one who never boasted her genius, didn't need to trumpet her quiet competence — whereas Tegan broadcast her ignorance every time she opened her mouth. She couldn't help it. She wasn't an alien prodigy, and genetics and biowhatsit weren't in air hostess training. Most of the biology she knew was ploddingly merino-specific.

"You're awfully quiet, Tegan," Nyssa said, pausing and giving her a swift look.

Her face was still a shock. Nyssa's girlish curls and cherubic features had aged, although nowhere near as much as fifty years should have changed her. The fan lines around her eyes reminded Tegan that Nyssa was an old woman, now, not the sweet girl Tegan had taken her for when they first met.

Or was she old? Tegan didn't know.

"Sorry," Tegan said. "I was just trying to remember if I washed your things. We've still got your old Princess Poof dress in there somewhere, if you want a taste of home."

"No, thanks." A trace of sadness hung there, and Tegan cursed herself for tactlessness. "I doubt it'd fit anyway. Here we are." Nyssa sailed in, serene again before Tegan could apologize.

Tegan found herself watching again. Nyssa made a quick circuit of the room, fingertips dancing across the old rack of test tubes, the collection of dried flowers from the Eye of Orion, a sequined mask from Earth. She stopped and stared at a crumpled mauve handkerchief lying on her pillow.

Tegan snatched it up. "Whoops! What's that doing in here? Well, I'll let you settle in, so you just—"

"Tegan," Nyssa said. She set her satchel in a corner with great care — the vaccine to save billions was in there, after all — and cocked her head, a wise-bird look that had sharpened since Tegan last saw it. "Perhaps it is I who ought to apologize."

"For leaving me with that obnoxious schoolboy, and no sane ally to get the Doctor to see reason when he won't listen to me? I should jolly well think so." Tegan softened it with a laugh.

Nyssa moved to the bed and sat down, patting the place beside her. "Come on. It's still me, you know."

Tegan hesitated, before dropping with a bounce. She folded her hands in her lap. "What do you want me to say? Two days ago, I thought we were leaving you to die. I wasn't even sure you were cured. And that horrible, dingy old station, no place for—" Tegan's eyes watered. "I'm just glad you're not stuck there any more. But now— fifty years. It's been a whole lifetime for you. You must've seen and done so much."

"Yes," she said. "But I haven't forgotten my friends." She patted Tegan's hand. "Here, help me out of this, will you?"

"What?" Tegan started. "Oh, your space suit. Hang on."

There was one thing about Nyssa that was her saving grace: she explained without being patronizing, without making Tegan feel stupid. There was just her small hands quickly pointing out the catches, and then Tegan was peeling her out of it and laughing as Nyssa struggled free of the arms and legs, kicking like a cat snarled in yarn. They were laughing before the tiny woman was free.

"There you are," Tegan said. "Ha, now there's a sight." She tickled Nyssa's bare feet protruding from her jumpsuit. "Long underwear. _Purple_ , yet."

Nyssa dimpled. Oh, god, she was so _tiny_. Tegan had forgotten. No, she hadn't. She remembered that night after they lost Adric, when they'd curled up here and wept. Or maybe Tegan had cried, and Nyssa had just spent the night staring at the wall, holding her.

"Tegan." Nyssa touched her wet cheek with the discarded handkerchief. "You'll be wanting this."

And Tegan was suddenly wracked with sobs. "Dammit." She swore again, softly. "I'm just a kid now, aren't I? You and the Doctor should get along perfectly now."

"Tegan." Nyssa rested a hand against her cheek. "In answer to your question," she said quietly, "No, there's been no one to pass me my test tubes. And... I missed you." She leaned close, a soft kiss against Tegan's cheek, and what the hell was that about?

"Come on, you don't have to pretend, You were all ready to run off and get back to your job. Can't say I blame you—"

"Yes, I must." Nyssa sighed. "I... I just want you to know, Tegan. It's been almost fifty years. But I loved you terribly, when you were so brave and brash and loud and all the things I couldn't dream of being. I was afraid it would trouble you, hurt our friendship, even if I could have... found the words to speak my heart. I was so young, I wish I'd read the signs." Her fingers tightened around the handkerchief.

"What?" The heat drained from Tegan' face. "That's not funny."

"No, it isn't." Nyssa smiled then, lines where her dimples used to be. "I've grown apart, and you're still right where I left you, my dearest friend of those days. Still grieving for the girl I was."

"And I'm the child now, is that it?" Tegan said, suddenly harsh, feeling her face redden. "I guess I'll see you before the Doctor drops you off. Now if you'll excuse me—"

"No!" Nyssa never, ever raised her voice. "You're still my dearest friend. Don't you understand that?"

"In that case, you must have been pretty damned lonely," Tegan spat. "For fifty years? Give me a break."

Nyssa looked up at her, and for a moment Tegan saw the shadows under those eyes, the haunted, tightly-bottled loss always kept in check by Nyssa's damned drive to make a difference, fix it, make things right, fill the gaping hole in the universe left by her homeworld destroyed by a madman. "Yes," she said simply. "I've kept myself busy."

"Oh, _Nyssa_."

"Lock," Nyssa said softly to the door controls, a moment before wrapping her arms around Tegan, who fell upon her almost fiercely. Their teeth knocked together with the second clumsy kiss.

"Cradle robber," Tegan muttered against her cheek.

"What?" Nyssa said, perplexed.

"Never mind. Now let's see if there's anything I'm good at that you aren't, little miss perfect."


End file.
